


Dumbledore Continues to Meddle

by Cithara



Series: Meddling Dumbledore [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, HP: EWE, Humor, M/M, Post-War, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 01:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13916223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cithara/pseuds/Cithara
Summary: Kingsley is fed up with his two top aurors being completely unable to work together and so calls on Dumbledore to help.





	Dumbledore Continues to Meddle

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 2 in the series but can be read alone from part 1.

Dumbledore Continues to Meddle

"I am not working with him!"

"And I'm not working with him! The man's an idiot."

"Takes one to know one you little ferret."

"If you think for one minute that I am going to let you saddle me with him as a partner then you can think again."

"Saddle _you_? If anyone's being saddled with a dud here, it's me!"

"Oh please Weasley, we all know you don't know your arse from your elbow."

"It might have escaped your notice, but I came through training at the top of our class."

"An example of nepotism at its finest."

"Nepotism?! I can't believe you would – "

Kingsley closed the door on the warring men and turned to face Dumbledore with a resigned shrug. "You see?" he asked. "It's like this every single day. They can't be in the same room for longer than five seconds without going for each other's throats. Trouble is, they're the highest-ranked aurors in the department, their results are outstanding, so naturally the powers that be want to pair them up. You can hear how well that news is being received."

Dumbledore nodded, the argument still audible behind the closed door as the two men railed at one another. "Well," he said, adjusting his spectacles so they sat more comfortably on the bridge of his nose, "there is something that might work, although it is a tad extreme."

"At this point I'd be willing to do anything," Kingsley said with a tired sigh. "I don't want to lose either of them from the department, they're bloody fantastic at what they do, but we can't carry on like this."

A familiar twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eye and he fixed Kingsley with a smile as he said, "Leave it with me, I've had some success in this area, I think I can do something to help."

* * *

"Where the bloody fuck are we?" Ron shouted as he and Draco found themselves standing in the sitting room of Dumbledore's Devon cottage. "What the hell just happened?"

"Well, if I had to make an academic guess, I'd say that that old coot of a headmaster tricked us into taking hold of a portkey that's landed us in this chintz-infested hellhole," Draco replied, casting a disdainful eye over the living room.

"Why?!" Ron asked agitatedly.

"I don't bloody know!" Draco replied, glaring at the man opposite him.

"Well this is just – hang on a minute, there's a letter. This can't be good can it?"

Draco inclined his head in agreement, then indicated for Ron to get on and open it, which he did, glancing over the headmaster's familiar writing. His face turned stony and he thrust the letter at Draco, who took it and glanced over it, his head shooting back up to look at Ron as he said, "We're stuck here?!"

"Until we work things out," Ron said through clenched teeth. "So it looks as though we'll die here."

"I'm not staying here with you," Draco said, heading for the front door and giving it a good yank.

"We don't have a choice you prick," Ron said, rolling his eyes and taking stock of his surroundings. He knew exactly where he was and exactly what Dumbledore was up to; he had heard the story from Harry and had witnessed his best friend's subsequent relationship with Severus. Well, if that was what Dumbledore was hoping for in this situation, he'd be sorely disappointed.

"Weasley, we are the top aurors in our field, we should be able to find a way out of this ridiculous place," Draco said, giving the door a vicious kick for good measure.

"We may well be top aurors, but I don't fancy anyone's chances against Dumbledore's magic, do you? If Harry and Severus couldn't find a way out, we're not going to," said Ron, a feeling of resignation settling over him. He decided, instead, to spec out the place and concentrate on trying to identify the traces of magic he could feel tingling around the property.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, turning around and leaning against the door with folded arms.

"Severus and Harry, surely you've heard?" Ron asked and at Draco's look of exasperation, said, "Dumbledore pulled the same stunt on them a couple of months ago, said the situation at Hogwarts had become untenable with their behaviour and he shipped them off here to try and fix it."

"Huh…and why wasn't I invited to their funerals?" asked Draco with an arch of his eyebrow and Ron snorted in response.

"Believe it or not, they're…seeing each other," Ron replied, deeply amused by the look of disbelief on Draco's face.

"You're kidding. Severus and Potter? That's just twisted."

"I think they make a good couple actually, and they certainly make each other happy. I've never seen either them so settled."

"Are you…are you friends with Severus?" Draco asked, as though the very idea was somehow sacrilegious.

Ron mirrored Draco and folded his arms, his hackles rising at the man's tone. "Yes, yes I am. Problem?"

Draco smirked and said, "No, just hadn't realised his standards had slipped so low."

"Prick," Ron growled, turning away from the man and continuing his endeavours in examining the cottage. There were basic wards in place, albeit strong ones, but behind that he could feel the tendrils of fulfilment magic. He rolled his eyes as he recognised the signature, as it confirmed what he already knew; there was no way to bypass the magic.

He explored the rest of the cottage, finding a well-stocked kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. There was a lovely little garden outside and beyond that he was sure he could see the sea, not that there was any chance of them getting to explore the surrounding area while they were imprisoned. He moved back into the living room to find Draco had shrugged out of his outer robes and was examining a bottle of brandy.

"Bit early isn't it?" Ron asked, removing his own robes, leaving him in a pair of dark jeans and a crisp white shirt. He had to admit, the money that being one of the country's top-ranking aurors brought in was entirely welcome, it was wonderful not to have to wear anyone's hand-me-downs anymore.

"I'm stuck in Miss Marple's wet dream of a cottage with you for company, I'd say the time is largely irrelevant when it comes to alcohol, wouldn't you?" Draco asked as he wrenched off the lid and sloshed a healthy amount of brandy into a waiting glass. He took a swig and made a noise of reluctant approval before moving over to the sofa and sitting down on it with a look of disdain. "Every inch of this place is offensive to the slightest modicum of style or taste," he said, looking at his surroundings with a sneer.

"Not everyone wants their home to look like an issue of the Wizard's Guide to Minimalist Interior. Some people actually like a little warmth to their décor."

"How do you know what my home looks like?"

"Just a guess," Ron said, rolling his eyes as he helped himself to his own glass of brandy. It wouldn't have been his first choice, he was a beer man after all, but the situation really did call for it and beggars couldn't be choosers.

"I suppose you think we should all have homes like that shack you grew up in."

"Watch your mouth," Ron warned.

"Oh I do beg your pardon, aren't we allowed to call it what it actually is?"

"At least my home had love in it, Malfoy. We mightn't have had two pennies to rub together, but we had each other, which is a damn sight more than can be said for your sorry lot."

Draco's eyes flashed and his nostrils flared angrily, but he said nothing, perhaps realising that he didn't have a leg to stand on in the argument. He took another large gulp of his brandy and glared down into his glass.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments and Ron wandered over to the fireplace, casting his hand casually towards it and springing flames into life. There was a definite chill to the cottage, and February was turning out to be surprisingly cold after a particularly mild Christmas. He sighed as he watched the fire crackle and burn and eventually turned around to face Draco again, saying,

"They're going to make us work together you know."

"Hell will freeze over first," the blond bit back.

"Look, whether you like it not, we're the two most successful aurors in the department, no one gets results like we do, it stands to reason that they'd want to partner us together."

"You sound as you though you like the idea," said Draco, summoning the brandy bottle and topping up his glass.

"Of course I bloody don't, but I don't see the point in fighting the inevitable, especially when they've gone to these ridiculous lengths to try and make it happen."

"It would be a disaster Weasley," Draco drawled.

"Ron," Ron said through clenched teeth, "my bloody name is Ron. We've known each other since we were 11-years-old, do you think we could get past using each other's surnames?"

"Well, _Ron_ ," Draco said with hideous emphasis, "do you really think we'd make a good team?"

Ron sighed and moved to sit on the sofa a little way along from his nemesis. "In theory, yes I do," he said levelly. "We're both bloody good at what we do and we each have different strengths to bring…but do I actually think that you can be a rational human being long enough to stop being a prick and be someone that I could work with day in, day out? No, no I don't."

"Oh yes, because it's just me that's difficult is it? You're entirely blameless when it comes to our dynamic?"

Ron cleared his throat and leant his elbows on his knees, saying, "No, no I suppose I'm not."

Draco looked at him in surprise, which he quickly masked with a sneer and said, "My, aren't we magnanimous?"

"Oh come on Draco, give it a rest, just for five minutes," Ron said in exasperation. He reached for the brandy and poured himself another glass, knocking it back in three large gulps and wincing at the taste. "Why couldn't he have left us with some beers? Not everyone likes spirits."

"Didn't stop you at the Christmas party, did it? You were on the tequila as I remember."

Ron laughed despite himself and shook his head, saying, "Fuck did I regret that the next morning. I don't know what I was thinking, I ended up snogging that lad from admin…what was his name…Adil? Shit, that's bad that I can't remember."

"You…snogged Adil?" Draco asked with a frown, his grey eyes suddenly fixed very firmly on Ron.

"If that's the good-looking one who always wears red, then yes, yes I did," said Ron, trying to discern exactly what it was he was seeing in the expression of the man opposite.

"Oh," said Draco quietly.

"What?" asked Ron, feeling his hackles rise. "Do you have a problem with me being gay?"

Draco snorted and said, "Well, as I am too that would be just a tad hypocritical. I just…I didn't realise that you were…in the tribe."

"In the tribe?" Ron echoed in amusement. "Who even says that?"

There was silence for a moment before Ron reached for the bottle and filled his glass up, then, after a momentary pause, reached over and filled Draco's too. The blond tilted his head in the slightest of thank-yous and Ron shifted so he was sitting more comfortably in the squishy old sofa, resting his head against the back of it so he could look across at Draco.

"When did you know?" he asked softly.

"Know what?" Draco asked with a frown.

"That you were gay."

"Oh." Draco took a sip and looked into his glass, a small smile playing around his lips. "6th year," he said eventually. "Blaise and I were…in the showers after quidditch practice and…I just couldn't stop looking at him. It was pretty obvious after that."

Ron nodded with a slight grin and said, "Blaise…can't say I blame you. He was gorgeous."

"What about you?" asked Draco and Ron's grin widened.

"I was something of a late bloomer," he said, swirling his brandy around in the glass. "I was 18 and Harry insisted on dragging me along to this pub he'd found that actually turned out to be some sort of gay bar…not really my scene now or then as it turns out, but there was this guy there and he looked just like Oliver Wood. I was hard in seconds. I…ended up going home with him."

"You lost your virginity to some randomer you met in a pub?" asked Draco, looking fairly scandalised.

"I wasn't really looking for candlelight and rose petals, I just wanted to get laid. Why, are you telling me your first time was straight out of a Mills and Boone novel?"

"I have no idea what the hell that is, but…it was pretty good, as first times go."

Ron took a sip of his drink then regarded Draco over the rim of his glass. "Who was it with?" he asked, surprised at the fond smile that settled on Draco's face.

"Blaise's cousin," he said softly. "I was staying at their place in the summer after 6th year and he was there too. He was a couple of years older and…he was great, really took his time with me, taught me some very interesting things along the way."

"Well," said Ron, raising his glass, "here's to first times."

Draco clinked his glass against Ron's and the two men stared at each other for a moment after as they both realised they had shared a moment that would, by some, have been regarded as a step towards bonding.

* * *

"So then…then Anderson comes in and he's covered head to toe in this black ink! It didn't wash off for weeks!" said Ron with a laugh, accidentally sloshing a measure of brandy out of his glass and onto the carpet as he gesticulated dramatically.

Draco snorted and, realising his own glass was empty, reached for the brandy. They were now coming to the end of the second bottle, both men having been heartily relieved when it had materialised after the first had been drained dry. They were both well and truly on their way to being completely pissed.

"Oops," Draco said, spilling it all over his fingers in his sloppy attempt to fill his glass. "Anderson's a knob," he said, and Ron sniggered. "What?" Draco asked.

"You, saying 'knob'…just sounds wrong coming from such an elegant Pureblood."

"You're a Pureblood, you say 'knob' almost in every sentence," Draco countered.

"Ah yes, but I'm not refined. I am what you would call a 'pleb'," Ron said, downing the remnants of his glass, already perfectly aware that he was going to well and truly regret it in the morning.

"True, very true," Draco said with a sage nod of his head.

Ron kicked him and the blond laughed, trying to return the favour, but realising that his legs weren't quite long enough to reach. They were sitting on the floor, their backs propped up against the sofa, legs stretched out in front of them.

"Anderson is a knob though," Draco insisted. "I had him on my team for a month and told Kingsley never again. He's a liability."

Ron nodded. "That he is," he said, bringing his knees up and holding his glass on top of them. "The last mission I was on with him, I ended up taking a slicing hex to the shoulder blade because I had to knock him out of the way. He shouldn't have even been standing where he was in the first place!"

"That's appalling," Draco said, looking disgusted. "Putting your teammates in danger like that is unacceptable. I don't know how he still has a job, he must be fucking someone."

Ron laughed and said, "Who the hell would screw him? Would you?"

"Merlin no!" said Draco, affronted by the question. "I have standards thank you very much."

Ron topped his glass up and, seeing that there was only a couple of mouthfuls left in the bottle, poured the rest into Draco's glass, a third bottle popping up on the table in front of them almost as soon as the last drop was poured.

"Dumbledore wants to give us both a drinking problem," Ron said, eyeing the bottle with a measured look of suspicion.

"He's a sadist, always has been."

The two men were quiet for moment, both lost in their own fuzzy thoughts before Ron nudged Draco's leg gently with his own and said, "What was your worst mission?"

"Fuck, now there's a question," Draco said with a sigh. "The award for the most botched mission goes to the time when I was meant to meet with an informant and fucking Anderson blew my cover, I nearly lost a very dear part of my anatomy in the ensuing fight."

Ron winced in sympathy and Draco continued, "The one that stays with me though, the one that wakes me up in a cold sweat at 3 o'clock in the morning has to be the Fenmore case 18 months ago."

"I…heard about that," Ron said softly. "Fucking rough, I'm sorry."

Draco nodded. "I lost three of my team that night. Bex had only just got married, she'd come back from her honeymoon only a few weeks earlier; Mark was a few years off retirement and he was really looking forward to spending the time with his wife and grandkids, doing all the things they had planned for their twilight years; and Eleanor was fresh out of the training programme, she was only just 20."

"I read the report, there was nothing anyone could have done to have saved them," Ron said, knowing how hard it was to lose a team member in the field.

Draco shrugged and said, "It was still me that had to face their families, had to tell them that they'd never see their loved ones again."

"I know," Ron said with a sigh.

"Oh fuck, I forgot – you've been there, you lost Callie in the Trudin raids, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Ron said, looking morosely down into his glass. The loss had hit him hard; Callie hadn't just been a member of his team, she'd been a good friend too, and he had struggled badly in the aftermath. It was only really thanks to Harry and Hermione, and oddly enough some very well-chosen words from Severus, that he had been able to pull through it all.

"She was a bloody good auror," Draco said, shaking his head sadly. "That sodding campaign was a mess from start to finish."

"Hey, I did the best I could," Ron said defensively.

"No, no I didn't mean that," Draco said quickly. "I thought you did a fucking amazing job under the circumstances…I only meant…well, it was a bloody farce wasn't it? You had your hands tied the whole way through with the bloody pen-pushers and red-tape brigade, and the procedures they insisted on were just an accident waiting to happen."

Ron snorted and said, "I got hauled up on a disciplinary for going against them. I was facing suspension but then…I don't know, it just got thrown out."

There was an awkward pause and Draco looked down at his knees for a moment before he took a deep breath and said softly, "Yeah…that might have had something to do with me."

Ron frowned and tilted his head as he looked at Draco questioningly. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Draco tapped his fingers on his knee and then began to draw circles against the fabric of his trousers with his forefinger before he sighed and said, "The day after they brought the action against you, I might have…stormed into Wilton's office and told him that he was bloody lucky that you and your entire team hadn't sold him down the river to the press over the campaign of countless fuck-ups he'd led, and that if he put you on suspension he would ensure that he was remembered as the most incompetent, moronic head of the department for letting their best auror go."

Ron blinked at him, wondering if perhaps he had heard the man wrong, but surely there was no way for him to have misheard the entire sentence. "You…said that?"

Draco nodded, an unmistakable blush spreading from his neck upwards. Ron couldn't help but feel that it was really rather endearing. "It was only the truth," the blond said, a defensive edge to his voice as he continued to look down at his knees.

Ron sat in silent disbelief, unable to stop looking at the man next to him. He felt a little uncomfortable with the revelation, and the deeply immature part of his brain was telling him to make a joke, to tease Draco about the fact that he obviously thought he was wonderful to alleviate some of the awkwardness he was feeling. In the end though, he settled for nudging Draco's leg and saying, "Thanks, that was fucking decent."

* * *

"Terry Boot?"

"No."

"Liam Mahoney?"

"Mm…no."

"Ross Porter?"

"Who?"

"You remember, the Ravenclaw that was two years above us. He was half-Spanish and had tanned skin and dark hair that he always wore in a side parting like a bloke from the 40s."

"Oh yeah, I remember him. Nah, not really."

"Oh come on Draco, I've rattled off most of the student body of Hogwarts, are you really telling me you didn't fancy any of them?" Ron asked, his speech slurred and his movements over-exaggerated.

The two men were well and truly sozzled and had descended into talking complete and utter nonsense. They had compared notes on who they fancied from work, who they'd had dalliances with at drunken parties, and Ron had been surprised to learn that someone as physically appealing as Draco seemed to have been rather reticent when it came to liaisons.

"What can I say?" Draco asked, giving a dramatic shrug. "I have high standards."

"Oh come on though, there must have been _someone_ you fancied," Ron insisted, reaching for his glass and knocking it over with his clumsy movements. He looked at it for a minute, then decided that it was probably for the best, the brandy was much better off soaking into the carpet than soaking into his liver. He made a mental note to cast a very thorough cleaning charm the following morning.

Draco shook his head and looked as if he immediately regretted the action.

"Well…what about now?" Ron asked, shifting and trying to get comfortable; they were still slouching on the floor and his backside kept getting pins and needles.

"What about now?"

"Are you…you know…seeing anyone?"

There was that awfully endearing blush again and Ron silently vowed to himself that he would do his best to make it appear as often as he could. "No, no I'm not," Draco said quietly. He looked up at Ron and tilted his chin with a slight air of defiance. "Are _you_?" he asked.

Ron snorted and said, "I'm not exactly great at relationships. I tend to just stick to…encounters. I haven't really found anyone that I could see myself settling down with, plus…the job doesn't exactly help."

Draco nodded and rolled his eyes, saying, "Tell me about it. I don't think I could ask anyone to put up with it – the long hours, constant danger, always having to break off commitments…it would take a very understanding person to put up with that."

"Right," Ron agreed, "or…someone in the same boat I suppose."

"Yeah…" Draco said, looking across at him, "yeah I suppose that's one way to go."

There was silence for a moment and Draco drained the last of glass, setting it aside as if to declare that he wouldn't be filling it up again. "I'm…I'm not so good at the whole casual encounter thing," he said tilting his head and staring ahead.

"No?" Ron asked, stretching his legs out and trying to shift himself to get comfortable.

Draco shook his head and said softly, "I like there to be a connection before I sleep with someone. I…I like being in a relationship, not that I've had much opportunity for that."

"How is that possible?" Ron asked before he could stop himself. Draco shot him a questioning look and Ron gave a reluctant sigh before saying, "Come on Draco, look at yourself, you're fucking gorgeous."

It was Draco's turn to blink at Ron in surprise and Ron wasn't sure if it was the alcohol clouding his brain, or if he was genuinely struggling with the concept that Ron found him attractive. "Are you taking the piss?" he asked guardedly after a while.

Ron snorted and said, "No, I promise! Oh come on, you must know that you're…pretty easy on the eye."

The blush intensified and Ron found himself oddly captivated by it. It made Draco seem more human, it gave him a vulnerable quality that counteracted the arrogance that Ron was so used to when dealing with the man.

"My…my father used to tell me that I was…that I was ugly…that I was a disappointment as his son and I obviously hadn't inherited the good looks that he had. He said I was too much like my mother, that I had an effeminate face, a weak chin and – "

"That's the biggest load of bollocks I've ever heard!" Ron said, feeling a wave of anger sweep over him. He shifted so that he looked Draco squarely in the face and said, "You need to take a little time to look in the mirror. Your father was a sodding idiot and you're ten times better looking than he ever was! You do know that most of the department, men and women alike, fancy the pants off you?"

"Don't be stupid," Draco said with a dismissive shake of his head.

"Alright," Ron said, a grin spreading across his face, the alcohol bolstering him, "well would you believe me if I said that I fancied you?"

"Fuck off," said Draco, rolling his eyes. "Now you're taking the piss."

Oh there was that delicious blush again. A predatory gleam appeared in Ron's eye, and he couldn't stop himself from shifting a little closer. "It's true," he said, and Draco continued to look sceptical as he refused to meet Ron's eyes. "You're a very attractive man," Ron said softly, easing off on the teasing tone he'd been using.

"Stop it," Draco said, glancing out of the side of his eye at the man who was inching ever closer to him.

"Why?"

"Because you're being a prick."

"I'm telling you the truth," Ron whispered, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Draco's cheek.

"Ron! Knock it off," said Draco, batting him away.

"I'm trying to prove a point," Ron said, ignoring Draco's swiping hands and kissing Draco's cheek again.

"What point?" said Draco irritably, trying to shoulder Ron out of the way.

"That you happen to be very, very appealing and that you really should realise just how enticing you are." Ron moved his kisses to Draco's jaw then began a trail down his throat, gratified to realise that the man had stopped trying to push him away. "I'm not joking Draco."

"Maybe not, but you _are_ pissed," Draco said, turning his head to face the red-head.

Ron smiled and brought his hand up to Draco's cheek. "A few drinks aren't going to suddenly make me fancy you, I've always thought you were bloody gorgeous," he said, his head spinning but feeling oddly clear about what he was doing.

"Shut up," Draco growled.

"Shan't," Ron said cheerily before leaning forward and meeting Draco's lips with his own. He was encouraged by the fact that Draco hadn't punched him in the face, and he moved his hand to cradle Draco's head gently as he deepened the kiss. Draco's lips were pliant and soft beneath his own and the blond was anything but passive as he responded to the hot and insistent kiss.

Ron broke away to return his attentions to Draco's throat, undoing the top few buttons of the man's shirt and sliding his hand over the soft skin underneath.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked breathily.

"What I've wanted to do for years," Ron murmured against Draco's skin, enjoying the involuntary arch of Draco's body as he leant upwards to meet Ron's sensuous attentions.

"Years?" Draco said in disbelief.

"Years," Ron confirmed. He undid the rest of Draco's shirt and slid it from his shoulders, littering a host of kisses across the man's chest as his hands roved over the taut muscles of his stomach. "You drive me fucking crazy most of the time and there are days when I would quite like to kick you to the moon, but bloody hell you have a starring role in almost all of my fantasies."

Draco laughed and wound his fingers through Ron's thick hair as he said, "I don't believe you."

"Fine," Ron said, raising his head and meeting Draco's eyes challengingly. "Then how about I prove it to you?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, his expression guarded.

Ron smiled and rose to his feet, trying to not to wobble as he did so, then extended his hand towards Draco and said, "There's a big empty bedroom going wanting, I think we'd be a lot more comfortable there than on the floor."

Draco looked at the offered hand for a moment before a look of resolve settled on his face and he took it, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet. "Lead the way," he said softly, and Ron pressed a light kiss to his lips before he moved from the living room, out into the corridor and down to the bedroom, keeping hold of Draco's hand as he did so. He gestured towards the candles in the room and they sprang to life.

He let go of Draco's hand and lifted his shirt up and off over his head, chucking it in the corner of the room and turning to face Draco, who was raking his eyes up and down Ron's impressive torso.

"What would you say if I told you that a lot people in our department fancied _you_?" Draco asked, throwing back the question that Ron had asked him earlier.

"I'd say they were only human," said Ron with a grin, hooking a finger into the waistband of Draco's trousers and yanking him closer. "And what about you? Are you part of the group that thinks I'm a bit of alright?"

Draco smirked and said, "I'm human aren't I? That's your answer." He wrapped his arms around Ron's neck and pulled himself up to meet the man's lips. He was a little shorter than Ron and had to stand on his tiptoes to reach properly. There was something about that little fact that greatly appealed to Ron, and he pulled the man closer, pressing inch after inch of their exposed flesh together.

He manoeuvred them over to the bed then slowly lowered Draco onto it, breaking their kiss to move his lips down Draco's throat and over his chest. Draco's head fell back against the pillows and he moaned in appreciation as Ron gently teased his skin.

"Any preferences?" Ron murmured as he continued his explorations.

"Beyond you fucking me into the mattress, no, knock your socks off."

"Do you ever top?" Ron asked curiously, moving further down Draco's body.

"Sometimes, but I really like being fucked," Draco said, his voice heavy as Ron's hands went to the button on his trousers and undid it, then undid the zip.

"That works well," Ron said, as he drew Draco's trousers down, noting with some amusement that the man wasn't wearing any underwear, "I really like fucking," he said as he took in the sight of Draco lying naked on the bed. The man was beautiful, there was no other word for him. Endless swathes of pale skin covered taut muscles, limbs that weren't long but were painfully elegant sprawled against the bed, and a deliciously long prick stood proudly against a nest of dark blond curls.

"Don't ever tell me again that you're not bloody gorgeous," Ron said with a growl, not waiting for Draco to answer before he leant forward and wrapped his mouth around the waiting erection. He moved up and down in sure movements, applying and relieving pressure as he went, teasing with his tongue and creating a wonderful sensation of suction with his motions.

He loved doing this. He had never understood, when he had first considered the idea of oral sex, how on earth it could be pleasurable to take someone's cock in your mouth, but the first time he had tried it, he had realised how stupid he had been. He relished in it, and as he continued his ministrations on Draco's achingly hard prick, he enjoyed every second, every tantalising movement he made with his tongue, every time he took Draco to the back of his throat and heard Draco whisper, "Oh fuck."

He moved back up to the head and lavished attention on it with his tongue, wrapping his hand around the base as he did so and beginning to pump firmly. That seemed to go down very well, and a hand came to twine in his hair as he said in a raspy voice,

"Oh God that's good, fucking hell just like that."

Ron smiled as well as he was able and did as he had been instructed, matching his sure stokes to the torturous rhythm he had set with his tongue. He cast a wordless spell and his hand became covered in a thick, viscous lubricant. He moved his fingers to Draco's entrance and circled the ring of muscle for a while, tempting it to relax, before insinuating one finger, then another. He moved in and out of Draco's tight body, stretching and preparing him, scissoring his fingers and adding a little more lubricant with the spell before adding a third finger as he continued to suck on Draco's prick.

Draco pressed down against him and moaned, "Oh God Ron."

"Enough teasing?" Ron asked with a grin.

"Fuck yes," Draco breathed, and Ron travelled back up his body to meet him in a deep and sensual kiss. He slicked his own cock liberally with the slippery lubricant then gently nudged Draco's legs apart as he broke the kiss and positioned himself at Draco's entrance. Draco tilted his hips upwards and Ron pressed forward slowly, taking his time to enter Draco carefully, watching as Draco's eyes closed and he bit his lip as Ron fully sheathed himself.

Ron gave him time to adjust, revelling in the feel of having the man's strong body beneath his own. Draco shifted a little and Ron began to move, rocking his hips to create slow, measured thrusts. Draco opened his eyes and smiled up at him as he moved his lower body, matching Ron's pace and pulling the man in a little deeper each time. At another time, Ron was definitely going to fuck Draco slowly, with long, languid thrusts that teased and promised pleasure on horizon after horizon, but for now, he wanted a different kind of experience, and as Draco wound his legs around his waist, it seemed they were both in accord.

Ron leant down to meet Draco's lips once more as he pulled out and slammed back in again, making Draco moan against his lips and clench his legs around Ron tightly. He picked up the pace and moved in and out of Draco in hard, firm thrusts, angling himself a little differently and making Draco whimper. It was a thoroughly delicious sound and Ron was merciless as he continued to pound Draco, rewarded with beautifully needy groans as he did so.

He reached a hand down and closed it around Draco's erection, stroking him in time to match the rhythm of his thrusts. "Yes," Draco breathed, "oh fuck yes," and it spurred Ron on to speed his pace up until Draco squeezed his eyes shut and came all over Ron's hand. A few more surges forward and Ron came too, gritting his teeth and letting the pleasure course through him. He collapsed forward, pressing his sweaty body against Draco's, trying to get his breathing under control.

He slowly withdrew from Draco's exhausted body, muttering _Scourgify_ as he did so, and flopping down beside his bed mate, looking across at him with a satisfied little smile. "Next time, you're taking me for a ride," he said, reaching out and stroking his fingers across Draco's chest.

"Next time?" asked Draco softly.

"Well, you said you didn't do casual encounters, and there's no way in hell I'm only doing that once. You never know, play your cards right and you might get a little attention to your morning glory."

"You're still going to be here in the morning then?" Draco asked, turning on his side to face Ron.

"We're stuck here, remember," Ron said with a laugh.

Draco shook his head and said, "No we're not. I felt the wards give an hour or so ago, a little after we started talking about work."

"Oh," Ron said quietly, surprised that he hadn't felt the magic give.

"So, I'll ask again, will you still be here in the morning?"

Ron reached out a hand and traced the line of Draco's cheekbone with his fingers. "I'd like to be."

* * *

"Another drink?" Harry asked and Ron and Draco both shook their heads.

"No thanks mate, we'd better be going soon, early start in the morning," said Ron, leaning back against the comfy sofa and wrapping an arm around the man sitting next to him. Draco nestled into his side and leant up to press a kiss to his jaw.

"What a shame you don't have a six-week holiday like us," Harry said with a grin as he moved back over to Severus' chair and perched on the arm. Severus yanked him down and into his lap, Harry laughing as he was pulled closely against the man.

"Yeah, rub it in," said Ron, rolling his eyes, resting his cheek on the blond head beneath his chin.

"Sorry mate," said Harry, not looking in the slightest bit apologetic.

"Have you got much planned?" Draco asked, settling in to Ron's familiar hold.

"We might go back to Devon," said Harry, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Severus, "we never quite got around to properly celebrating our engagement."

"I still can't believe the two of you are getting married," Ron said, with a disbelieving shake of his head. "Are you sure you're both not under some form of Imperious?"

Severus snorted and said, "Well, anything is possible where our venerable old Headmaster is concerned."

Ron inclined his head in acknowledgement and said, "True, very true."

"Have you forgiven him yet?" Harry asked, nuzzling against Severus and settling himself more comfortably.

"In theory, no," Ron replied, and Draco smiled as they exchanged a glance, "but we did send him a bottle of brandy afterwards. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Kingsley did too."

Severus rolled his eyes and said, "He'll have enough to begin his own collection soon."

"I wonder who his next victims will be," Draco mused as he began to trace patterns on Ron's chest.

"Victims?" Ron echoed in amusement. "Four months of great sex and you call yourself a victim?"

"Please, do we have to know these details?" Harry asked with a grimace.

"Hey four-eyes, I heard all the details when you and Sev started banging, now it's your turn."

"You told him about us?!" Severus asked Harry, giving him a vicious dig to his ribs.

Harry squirmed and tried to get away as Severus continued his attack, saying between laughs, "He's my best friend! And I'd been waiting to jump your bones since I was 18!"

"Look, now you've started a domestic," Draco told Ron, "you cause chaos wherever you go."

"That's our cue to leave anyway," said Ron with a grin. "We all know Harry wants to get Sev into an argument so they can have make-up sex after."

"Get out of my home now you horrid little whelp," Severus growled.

A few hugs and handshakes later, and Ron and Draco were strolling back up from the dungeons and through the corridors of Hogwarts. They walked arm-in-arm, murmuring companionably as they went, talking about the work that was waiting for them the next day.

As it turned out, they still weren't team partners. The department had strict rules about people in relationships being part of the same team, and so they continued to head up their own individual sections, working closely with each other when the need arose, drawing on each man's particular strengths in certain areas.

Apparently, they had both won and lost a lot of people various amounts of money with their announcement a few weeks after coming back from the cottage that they were a couple. Most people had put bets on the fact that they would eventually get together, but money had been lost by people who had bet that it would happen at a later date instead.

"Are you coming back to mine?" Draco asked as they moved into the entrance hall.

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?" asked Ron with a smile.

"Ah, Ron, Draco, how nice to see you here," came the headmaster's voice, and both men turned to see him descending the main staircase towards them. "Been visiting the happy couple?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes Headmaster," said Ron, meeting the man with over-dramatic frostiness.

"Now now my dear boy, you're not still cross with me are you? Not when everything worked out so well."

"Our bosses don't think so," said Draco wryly. "They're furious that they can't partner us now that we're in a relationship, they think we've done it on purpose just to spite them."

"Well, Kingsley seemed very pleased with the situation when I spoke to him last."

Ron grinned in spite of himself and said, "That's because he doesn't have to mediate our rows anymore."

"Well then, there you are, everyone's happy," said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together and joining them in front of himself.

"Mm, indeed," said Draco with a quirk of eyebrow. "If you'll excuse us, Headmaster, we're in need of an early night. Goodnight sir."

Both men gave the headmaster knowing little smiles then turned and left the hall, Ron slinging an arm around Draco's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple as they went. Dumbledore watched them go, hoping that when the time came he would receive an invitation to their wedding.


End file.
